You see, this is what happens. I get all enthusiastic about something, begin well and then it all gets complicated and difficult. I start to crash and let go of some of the threads I am holding. Or the ball becomes too heavy and begins to slip out of my hands. Now, if you are working in a good team, someone recognises that is happening and takes the ball off you for a bit. But if you aren't, there's a danger of dropping it altogether, and likely, on your own foot. Also, I know if I'm using the third person - as in 'you' - things are too painful to own as 'I'.
Have you noticed that? When people are interviewed after some accident or disaster they never say 'I', they always say 'you'. As in, 'you felt like it was all in slow motion'.
It's been a crap week. Anniversary week actually. One of the main protagonists of my abuse died six years ago Wednesday, two days after my daughter's coming of age. A few weeks later my CFS really started to bite. Her birthday also marks the anniversary of the beginning of my journey of recovery, when the abuse came into my consciousness after her traumatic birth. No wonder I've been feeling a bit disconnected. It's hard to hold both so much joy and so much pain at the same time.
This week has also seen the community group work I am doing coming to a head with some heavy duty meetings and lots of conflict around it. I am gradually trying to extricate myself from some of the more onerous work but it's like every time we look at something a can of worms opens. And, to top it all, my laptop is playing up.
Looking on the bright side, we've had a great week with Little R who is growing in confidence all the time. I've managed to contain myself apart from a little meltdown at the beginning of the week that nobody saw. AJ is visibly more relaxed and enjoying the time with his son. Things are very hopeful and we feel we are coping with difficulties and moving beyond them. A high point this week was flying R's kite in the park at the back of us. I watched and picked blackberries. Of course they flew the kite far too high and it came down in some trees. It was a big adventure for R trying to locate it and climbing a tree to get it down.
The fall out from all this activity and emotional processing is an aching body, weak legs, hot flushes, and the usual fatigue. I'm sleeping badly, waking every two hours to throw the covers off and then stagger to the bathroom for a pee which I don't really need. This level of stress is not sustainable. Well, next week should be quieter.